


A Matter of Proximity

by Annie D (scaramouche)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Dean POV, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Mild Angst, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-18
Updated: 2018-01-18
Packaged: 2019-03-06 07:32:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13406436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scaramouche/pseuds/Annie%20D
Summary: A couple of years into their space voyage, Dean gets another surprise from Cas.A future timestamp forThe Parts of Our Sum.





	A Matter of Proximity

Dean and Cas’s work schedules on the _Executive_ being what they are, there’s no point in setting a regular date night. They did try to in their second year on board, when Charlie brought it up as a suggestion, but emergencies and on-call sheets and Victor being an evil cockblock put that idea out to pasture pretty quick.

Nowadays they do what they can, taking shared time-outs when they’re both free, and not bitching too much when they’re not. They’re good at improvising, after all, and are willing to give up a little bit of sleep (and sometimes, sex) if it means being able to chill in each other’s company like the boring farts that they are.

Today they’re in the garden hub, and it’s early enough in the day it’s still quiet: there’s only a couple of cadets eating their late breakfast, plus Joshua tinkering with the pipes by the pond.

There are other places on the ship to chill, but Cas likes the garden, so they tend to come here more often than not. The garden itself still freaks Dean out a little, no matter that it’s been more than three years from launch. Fact is, he’d never been surrounded by this much green back when he’d been Earth-locked; of course it would take going into freaking _space_ to get Dean to commune with nature.

“This is new,” Cas observes. He’s opened Dean’s basket and is boggling at the little cup pies all arranged in a row. “You’re experimenting?”

“Got a decent trade with the engineering crew,” Dean says proudly. “Don’t hold back with your comments now.”

“As if I ever do,” Castiel replies, which is so perfectly on cue that Dean has to lean in and kiss him. Boring farts, seriously. If it weren’t for the space thing, and the occasional peril thing, they’d be every cliché that Dean used to make fun of.

So they’re eating and chilling, and it’s just like any other day together, except that after a while it becomes clear that Cas can’t seem to sit still. He consumes Dean’s culinary creations with the enthusiasm that’s typical of him, but he’s also jittery and quieter than usual, and his replies to Dean’s normal blathering are so subdued it’s almost one-sided.

Dean assumes it’s because he’s tired – Cas just clocked off another twelve-hour stint with the asteroid reclamation team – and reaches out to run his fingers through Cas’s shower-damp hair. Cas sighs, turning into the touch gratefully. Cas takes the long hours because he needs to, but sometimes he forgets his limits and needs Dean to point ‘em out for him. (It goes both ways, Dean admits.)

“Hey, don’t bother with that,” Dean says when Cas tries to clean up the remains of their meal. “You go on first. Someone needs their beauty sleep.”

Cas smiles at him. Dean knows Cas’s smiles; he’s catalogued them all. This is Cas hesitating with purpose, and Dean has the sudden, sinking dread that Cas has bad news. Maybe he hates Dean’s pies. Maybe he’s about to get another placement. Maybe he’s going off-ship again, which was fucking _stupid_ the first time round, thank you very much.

“You okay?” Dean asks slowly.

Cas gives a little nod, eyes still not moving away from Dean’s face. Well, his _eyes_ don’t move but his body sure as hell does, drawing away from Dean’s side and down to the ground, though Cas’s hand stays warm on Dean’s knee.

Dean’s about to say that Joshua will kill them if he catches them fooling around in the garden again, but then Cas pulls something out of his jacket – a small box, which opens up to reveal a ring.

Hey, that’s a ring.

Hey, Cas is down on one knee and holding a ring.

_Hey, Cas is asking Dean to marry him._

Well, not _asking_ asking, because Cas is silent, smiling gently and gazing up at Dean with the expectation that he will be understood, which is tragic because Dean doesn’t. This doesn’t make sense because why would Cas do this, why would Cas ask Dean to marry him, why does Cas _want_ to marry him?

They’ve never talked about marriage, ever. Why would they? It’s not worth bringing up, because marriage happens to other people – to normal people who meet and date and get to know each other and maybe have sex, and marriage is really just a normal step in that progression. Dean hasn’t even been with Cas that long; if he doesn’t count that post-heart-drama period where they didn’t talk to each other and that annoying interlude where Cas was off the ship, it’s only been, what, four years?

Jesus Christ, four years. For two of those years they’ve been living together, too. Cas’s quarters are just bigger and more comfortable, and Dean would’ve been stupid not to take advantage of that. Four years of stealing each other’s clothes and sleeping by the other in medical and plotting covert quickies in creative places all over the ship.

How are they not sick of each other yet?

Dean is busy thinking all of this (and maybe panicking), so it takes him a moment to realize that he hasn’t given Cas an answer. That thought snaps him out of it, but when he blinks, he realizes that Cas is already getting up, brushing the grass from his pants and settling back on the bench next to Dean. The little grey box has disappeared.

“I think you said there was dessert?” Cas glances back in the basket. “Is this something new as well?”

“No, it’s…” Dean shakes his head. His body is still thrumming, cold like he’d just stepped into an airlock. “Just my usual ice. In case you wanted.”

“Oh, that’d be nice.” Cas pulls out the small containers, putting one in Dean’s hand. “I still think it’s a good idea if you monetize this.”

“Competition,” Dean hears himself say. “Paul would rip me a new one. Gently, of course, but he would.”

Cas seems perfectly at ease as he dives into dessert, smiling when Dean starts babbling again, and kissing Dean when he accidentally smears ice-cream across his chin.

It’s as though that moment never happened.

 

* * *

 

 

Except it did happen. Dean’s just too shaken for it not to have happened, no matter that the next couple of days Cas blithely goes about their quarters and to work and through their routine as though nothing’s changed.

Everything’s changed. Cas threw a wrench in the works without warning, and frankly, that shit’s not on. They have a good – _great_ – thing going, so why did Cas have to do this? Dean knows that they’re practically domestic these days, but that doesn’t mean that they need something to shake it up. Almost everyone on board knows they’re a thing, they’re on each other’s insurance, and hell, Dean’s mostly-convinced that the only reason he got this posting at all is because Naomi wanted him to keep Cas agreeable for the Company’s purpose.

Dean remains unsettled until one night when he returns late to their quarters. Dean hangs his overalls and undresses, the whole time watching Cas where he’s sitting up on their bed. Cas is typing up his usual daily reports, but he puts his tablet down when Dean reaches for him.

They fuck slowly, Dean’s knees over Cas’s shoulders and Cas holding the lower half of Dean’s body clear off the bed. Cas’s hands keep Dean grounded when he comes. It’s good.

Afterward, Dean props himself up on his side and watches Cas clean up. Dean thinks back to when they first started doing this, and how Cas didn’t really know what to do and would watch Dean do everything with that serious I’m-listing-everything-painstakingly-in-my-head frown all the time. Now Cas moves easily, almost absent-mindedly, to the bathroom and back, and picks their clothes up off the floor.

Dean would never say this out loud, but he thinks Cas is beautiful all over. Every single part of Cas is beautiful, and this includes the scars and quilt-work of organic and synthetic skin on his back that now stretch and curve as Cas pulls his shirt on. Dean wishes he could say it, but it took so damned long for Cas to be okay with just letting Dean _see_ this, and he knows better than to push.

But it’s true – Cas is beautiful. The marks that Cas doesn’t like to acknowledge are evidence of what he’s survived, and that in turn makes Dean feel like he could survive anything, or do anything. Hell, the things he’s seen and done in the past few years alone could’ve made the him of ten years ago cry, that’s how nuts all of this is.

Well, not _nuts_ , not anymore. All of the stress and near-misses of galaxy exploration feel like small freaking potatoes compared to what he’s built with Cas, and isn’t that just a hoot? It’s a matter of scale.

“Hey,” Dean says. “You know you’re important to me, right?”

Cas’s eyes are soft, and his smile more so. “Yes, Dean.”

“No, I mean… You’re _it_ for me. I want you to know that.”

Cas’s mouth falls open a little, and then he beams, gums showing and everything. “Thank you.” He settles on the mattress facing Dean, and trails two fingers down the side of Dean’s face before kissing him. “I love you, too.”

“But you’re not…” Dean takes a breath. “There’s nothing you regret?”

Cas blinks, surprised. “No, nothing.” He frowns a little. “How about you? You can tell me.”

“No,” Dean says weakly. “I… I know we disagree on stuff, and when we argue it can be like hell rainin’ down, but I just… it’s so _good_ , Cas. What we have.”

“It is. It’s the best.”

Try as he might, Dean can't sense any hedging in Cas’s words, or his holding back. Cas is being perfectly earnest and direct as is his wont, and more importantly – Cas is _happy._ Cas is happy with Dean, and with what they have, and with what they’ve already promised to be to each other. This should make Dean feel better and, for the most part, it does.

“I need to finish my report,” Cas says carefully. “Is that okay?”

“Yeah,” Dean says. “Go for it, I gotta sleep.”

Cas nods and turns away, attention shifting to the tablet he draws on his lap. Dean watches him for a while, admiring the way the glow from the screen dances on his nose and cheekbones. When he sleeps, he dreams of flying over mountains made of glass.

 

* * *

 

 

Later that week, Jo comes in to the workshop for some touch-ups with her navigation scope, and Dean – who’s avoided mentioning it to anyone else on board, or even in his weekly missives to Sam – finds himself blurting out:

“You ever think about getting married?”

“With you?” Jo laughs, and sticks out her tongue when Dean drops the bib on her head. “Kidding, kidding. Honestly? Crosses my mind sometimes, but mostly as something I think mom would want for me. Not really a priority, but maybe, one day? Why’re you asking?”

Dean busies himself fixing the wiring around Jo’s head, before finally sighing. “Cas asked me to marry him.”

“Oh, congrats!” Jo starts when she sees Dean’s expression. “No? Oh, Dean, what—”

“We didn’t break up,” Dean says quickly. He puts his soldering iron down and rubs his hands together restlessly. “We’re good. I asked Cas after – not immediately after, but after – if we’re good, and yeah, he said we’re good. We’re still… us.”

“That’s great.” Jo nods, and Dean feels just a little bit lighter. “Pfft, marriage isn’t for everyone, we both know that.”

“Do we?”

“Dean,” Jo says, the lone syllable managing to encompass all the years and things they’d seen together. She cants her head, catching Dean’s eye and holding it. “You’re sure Cas isn’t upset?”

“He doesn’t seem to be.” Dean can hear the doubt in his own voice. “I think? But I’m pretty sure I can tell if he’s really pissed.” He laughs at the memory of the last time Cas got mad at Dean’s messing with his filing system. “And this wasn’t it. He’s been… Goddammit, Jo, he’s been really sweet.”

“And that’s good. Isn’t it?”

“I guess.”

Jo narrows her eyes. “Are _you_ mad that Cas is okay with it?”

“What? I…” Dean shifts uncomfortably. “Hey, time’s wasting, let’s finish up with scope.”

“Seriously—”

“Come on, Jo!” Dean exclaims. Jo huffs and makes a face at him, but she dutifully turns back in her seat and doesn’t say another word through the rest of their check-up.

 

* * *

 

 

From there, it’s only a few days before Dean makes his decision. He has a trump card, and although it’s a few months too early, he’s going to play it.

The next free evening Dean gets with Cas, they have a cozy dinner in the Roadhouse, and then Dean takes Cas up into the science levels for a detour that he promises is not sex in an unauthorized location.

Dean’s been working on this one for some time – hell, he’d been making sketches in his head from the time they were in The Oasis – but it’s only in the past year that he’s managed to get it going. Dean’s never cared about rank climbing but in this case he’d made an exception, working hard for those new lines on his badge so to earn his private corner and server in the workshop (though he’d added his own security code on top because he’s no chump, thank you very much).

He’d hoped to at the least have a prototype working before he presented it to Cas, but as with many things to do with Cas, Dean’s having to wing it instead.

“Okay, here we go.” Dean gestures for Cas to stand back as he flips up the monitor. The secondary biomech workshop isn’t empty – there’s always someone working here, no matter time of day – but the benches around Dean’s are currently unused, and the white noise shields provide enough privacy for what Dean intends.

“Should I sit down?” Cas asks.

“No, no, just…” Dean wipes his damp palms against his jeans, and laughs nervously. Cas isn’t helping, either – he tilts his head and is just generally looking ridiculously handsome, which is distracting as all out. “Geez,” Dean breathes. “Okay, I, uh… I was gonna show this to you on your birthday, after we’d started the last loop back to Earth. ‘Cause, um… Okay, just look at it.”

Dean taps the command, and the monitor lights up with the schematic.

Cas’s eyes widen, recognizing it instantly despite never having seen it before. Dean doesn’t need to look at it; it’s Cas’s face that is far more interesting, the way wonder and surprise dance over it, the way he takes an unconscious step forward to observe it in close up.

“Is this… for me?” Cas asks.

“Yeah.” Dean’s throat is surprisingly dry. “I had to design it from scratch, ‘cause we don’t want Company lawyers breathing down our neck about their IP and all that, so it’s – it’s kinda basic compared to what you already have—”

“I love it,” Cas says firmly. Dean watches Cas’s eyes move over the design, from the shoulder plates, down the upper arm, elbow, forearm and hands. Cas nods, so clearly interested and intrigued. “You’ve been working on this for a while.”

“Yeah,” Dean laughs. “I, uh… I know it’s kinda stupid, since your arms are all yours now, but I’ve never made internal organs from scratch before, so I thought I’d do what I know but I’d never make you—”

“I want them,” Cas says. “We can trade my current arms in. That might be enough to cover the rest of the lungs, and maybe even a little of the heart. How much would it cost to make these?”

Dean inhales sharply. “You want both? Both arms?” When Cas just looks at him in confusion, he adds, “I thought you’d want trade in a hand, maybe up to the elbow? I just drew the whole thing so you’d have options.”

“I do, although…” Cas trails off, thinking. “If the hands are not so… accurate, perhaps I could keep one. Then it would not be so uncomfortable when I touch you.”

“No,” Dean says immediately. “I don’t care about that.”

“Dean—”

“I don’t _care_.” Dean steps into Cas’s space, hands sliding around to cup Cas’s face. Cas tries to turn away but Dean holds him steady, wanting him to listen. “This isn’t about me, this is about you.”

“Not true,” Cas says, quiet and amused. “It’s about us. For I can tell you with full certainty that I would not be bothering with replacement arms if you weren’t in my life. The debts meant nothing to me, before.”

This right here is Dean’s problem. Cas is wonderful; he’s always wonderful, even when he’s being a stubborn and/or confusing asshole. But that wonderfulness brings with it an addiction – a _high_ – that renders everything else in Dean’s world grey and uninteresting. Dean loves it (and Cas) so much it terrifies him, because how in the blazes can he ever earn enough karma to be deserving of this?

“Why do you wanna marry me?” Dean blurts out.

Cas misunderstands the question, and his smile goes coy and lopsided. “Because you’re a person who does things like this.” He gestures at the schematic. “How can I not?”

“No, no, not…” Dean takes a deep breath, and tries to funnel all the anxiousness of the past week into this moment. “Not why you’d want to marry _me_ , but why do you need to get married at all?”

Cas frowns a little, perplexed.  “I don’t need to, no. But I love you, and it’s a show of commitment—”

“What,” Dean says, the words spilling out before he can control them, “if we don’t get married, that means we don’t love each other enough, that we’re not committed to each other?”

“No,” Cas says, startled. “No, it’s not like that.”

“Then what is it like? What’s it like, Cas?”

“Why are you picking a fight with me?” Cas draws back a little, though he’s halted in his journey when Dean grabs the hem of his shirt. “I don’t want to fight about this.”

“I don’t…” Dean tilts his head back and takes a handful of steadying breaths. His pulse is drumming rapidly in his ears, a friendly reminder of the heart he carries in his chest – Cas’s heart, because it will never not be Cas’s heart, no matter how long Dean wears it. “I’m not tryin’ to fight. I want to understand.”

It’s Cas’s turn to take a deep breath. Dean waits for it, and marvels that he can recognize every tic of Cas’s eyes, eyebrows, mouth as he composes an answer in his head.

“My feelings for you are tremendous. Massive. Gargantuan.” Cas opens his hands, as though holding something within them. It’s a surprisingly childish gesture, though Dean is thoroughly fucking charmed. “Sometimes I feel that I cannot contain it all. And I wish to express them in any and every way that I can. Be it touching you, living with you, laughing with you, wearing your clothes and eating your food, being the vessel for the hopes and fears you wish to share with me. Marriage is just another part of that – a way to express my feelings. But not all ways are suitable for us. I thought marriage might be, but if it isn’t, then it’s all right. I don’t mind.”

Dean’s throat clicks when he swallows. “Did it hurt when I didn’t say yes?” He sees Cas consider and discard the white lie.

“Yes,” Cas admits. “But only a little.”

Dean tries not to let that sting. “Why only a little?”

“Because that’s what relationships are, isn’t it? Learning about the other person, their likes and dislikes, the things they want and the things they don’t. I’m sorry for bringing it up so suddenly. I know we’d never talked about it before, and I never meant to make you uncomfortable.”

Cas never does, but he keeps doing it. No matter how many times they’ve argued, Dean thinks Cas will never understand how much this kind of thing undoes him – the heart, the rescues, the time that Cas fucking EVA’ed his way through the collapsing satellite station to get back to him. All of this seems to come so easily to Cas – his devotion palpable and humbling.

The worst part isn’t even that Dean feels unworthy of it (which he is). The worst part is that Dean _loves_ it. Dean is a shitbag of the highest proportions because he gets a rush of pride and pleasure every single time Cas proves his feelings (not that he has anything to prove in the first place). Even the fucking heart – God, Dean’d yelled and cursed and was angry for months, but deep, deep down? He’d loved it. Cas cared so much for him that he’d do _that_ , at no thought for himself, what the fuck. Dean hated himself for loving it, more than he’d hated Cas for doing it, in the end.

Jesus Christ, Dean is so goddamned in love with Cas.

And now, a proposal. Another offering, easily given by a man who doesn’t know any better, to a man who barely measures up and takes forever to respond in a marginally acceptable way.

Dean is shaking. “Ask me again.”

“No,” Cas says with a frown. “You’re stressed.”

“Cas,” Dean says, pleading. “Just. Please. Ask me again.”

Dean tries not to move a muscle while Cas scrutinizes him. He feels raw all over, as though Cas is finally going to see what kind of person he is. But Dean gets this feeling a lot around Cas – more so in the earlier days than now, admittedly – yet Cas is still here for reasons unknown to the universe. As though Dean’s loving Cas back is enough. Is it enough? Dean hopes it’s a little bit enough.

Cas moves, right hand reaching up to his left shoulder, pushing the sleeve up and pulling the synthetic skin out to reveal the port. He dips his fingers inside the opening, and there’s a faint click of metal before he pulls the ring out. A smooth sweep has the skin and sleeve sliding back into place.

Cas’s eyes are on Dean’s face the whole time. “Dean, will—”

“Yeah,” Dean says. “Yes.”

“Are you sure? Because I don’t want to pressure—”

“Come on,” Dean says urgently, pulling Cas’s hand holding the ring towards him. “Put it on, I swear I – I want this. You can tell, can’t you? I just needed to – I did say you’re it for me, right?”

Cas finally relaxes. Dean relaxes with him, though he barks a small, near-hysterical laugh. They fumble with the ring but eventually get it on Dean’s finger. Then Cas kisses Dean slowly, sweetly, and Dean has a sudden understanding of exactly what Cas meant when he said that his feelings are tremendous, gargantuan.

Of course, this is when the shipwide alarm goes off.

“Oh,” Cas says, pulling back sharply. The lights have switched from yellow to white, and the shrill bleat of alarm reverberates through the walls and floor. Cas pulls out the communicator from his back pocket and reads it. “Victor’s calling me.”

“Go, man,” Dean says. “It’s cool, it’s fine.”

“But are you—” Cas is silenced when Dean kisses him one more time, hot and open-mouthed. “All right.”

Dean waits until Cas has disappeared round the workshop shelves. Then he sits on his stool, puts his head between his knees in a brace position, and gasps for breath. Maybe he should be used by now to Cas getting him to do things he never thought he’d do. Or maybe he’ll never, ever get used to it, and the rest of their lives is going to be one thing after another.

Sounds kinda exciting, actually.

Dean yelps when he feels Cas’s hands on his shoulders, and then the press of a very warm kiss on the top of his head. Dean looks up, shocked and his face no doubt a very uncool shade of red. “Cas, you—”

“Just wanted to double-check that you’re all right.” Cas grins guilelessly. “See you soon? We’ll talk about crafting the arms once we’re back on Earth?”

Dean nods weakly. “Yeah, sounds good. See you soon.”

This time Dean watches Cas go all the way to the end of the workshop, and waves when Cas does. Then Dean puts his hand on his sternum, feeling Cas’s heart beating steadily.


End file.
